The Face
by harley.doll
Summary: Carly "convinces" Freddie to accompany Sam to her doctor's appointment and it is nothing like he'd imagined.


[AN: _This took soo long, but I'm finally happy with the finished product and hopefully you will be too! I own nothing, I'm simply borrowing the characters._]

Carly's patented Face has gotten me into more unpleasant situations than I care to admit. You'd think that after all these years I'd be able to resist, but no. Anytime Carly breaks it out I know I'm in trouble. Eventually the sadness in her eyes will begin to break my resolve and the little quiver her lip manufactures will tug at my conscience. I close my eyes to try and fight it but even behind my eyelids all I see is that sad, pleading face.

Sometimes, I really wish I wasn't such a gentleman.

The Face is what put me where I am now: in a bland, sick-smelling waiting room next to Sam, who has been strangely subdued during this little excursion. I'd known that Sam wasn't a fan of any teachers, most administrators and all dentists. The same goes for police officers, fire fighters and vegetarians. ("I just don't understand how someone could turn their back on meat! Nothing will ever love you more than your ham, mark my words!") Somehow though, over the course of our (twisted, complicated and ever-enduring) friendship doctors had never been discussed. That was why when Carly cornered me in the studio Wednesday, I was so distracted by daydreams of what I thought would be a relatively easy job that The Face had completely caught me off guard.

I was in the studio when I heard Carly.

"Freddie, are you up there?"

On a normal day, I would have answered her, but I knew better. The voice she'd shouted with wasn't the 'I-haven't-seen-you-all-day-let's-catch-up' voice; it was the 'I-need-a-favor-and-I-know- you-won't-like-it-but-I'm-going-to-ask-anyway' voice. And that voice precedes an unpleasant request which very often precedes The Face. I panicked, my mind jumping to all the horrible things she'd want to request of me (the most horrible being another trip to Build-A-Bra to tell her which straps her newest crush would like best). Footsteps on the stairs snapped me out of my little meltdown, telling me that Carly was on her way up.

"Freddie?" She called again, confirming my suspicion. My heart started beating double-time as my adrenaline kicked in. My eyes scanned the studio, searching desperately for a place to hide. They settled on the wall from which all of our guests miraculously emerge. She'd find me, but it would give me time to collect my thoughts and form a better escape plan. I sprinted for the wall and plastered myself against it as the door to the studio opened. I slid as quietly as possible along the wall as Carly searched the room for me. What I'd forgotten was that we had been planning a new segment for iCarly, involving George, a mannequin, Christmas lights and a singing Santa. My foot caught the edge of the mannequin's base and before I knew it, I was on the floor with the mannequin on top of me and Santa singing somewhere near my right ear. I groaned, pushing the mannequin off of me and detangling my face from the Christmas lights that had somehow wrapped around my head. Tossing them on top of the mannequin I looked up to see Carly standing in front of me with her hands on her hips.

"You know, hiding generally works out better if you stay quiet," she said laughing, extending a hand to help me up.

"Could you at least try to hide the fact that you're laughing at me?" I grumbled as she pulled me to my feet. Sighing as I brushed myself off, I risked a glance at her. "What's up?"

"I need a favor," she said, still giggling.

"What kind of favor?" I replied warily.

It was her turn to sigh this time. "Grandpa called last night. He heard about some etiquette class and signed me up."

I raised an eyebrow. "Etiquette class?"

"Yeah, that's what I said too." She dropped herself into a waiting beanbag before continuing. "It's on Friday. He asked me to at least take the first class before I said no."

I dragged a second beanbag over and flopped next to her. "So you said yes."

"I said yes," she answered, her shoulders slumping a little. "From four to seven I'm going to be trapped in the back room of some creepy building in Yakima learning about forty-six different types of forks."

"I'm sorry," I said, trying to bite back a laugh.

"No you aren't. You're laughing!"

"It's funny! Or it would be if it wasn't happening to you," I backtracked in response to the withering look she sent me.

"It's okay. I guess it is kind of funny. But that's why I need your help. Sam has a doctor's appointment Friday and I usually go with her. But when Grandpa was on the phone, he sounded so far away. And then he started talking about how he missed me and Spencer and how much he wanted to see us that I forgot about Sam's appointment."

I relaxed. This wasn't going to be as bad as I thought. "No problem. While you're becoming a proper lady I'll take Sam to her appointment."

I should have known it wouldn't be that easy. There I was all relaxed and worry-free thinking that taking Sam somewhere and picking her up wouldn't be a problem, especially if I bribed her with the promise of a smoothie if she behaved herself. If I had continued paying attention instead of letting my mind wander, I would have seen Carly slip The Face on and I maybe would have had a fighting chance.

"No," she said quietly. "You have to go_ with_ her."

I froze. I remembered the stories of what happened to the poor dentist and his assistant before they'd gassed Sam. I had absolutely no desire to throw myself between Sam, whatever she could find in an exam room and the doctor.

"You mean like into the building?"

In my peripheral vision I could see Carly nod. "Uh-huh."

"Within arms' reach?"

"It's just so she can get some blood work done. The whole thing will take an hour tops."

"Do you realize how hazardous that could be to my physical well-being?" I cried out. My eyes widened as I regained the ability to move. I turned to look at Carly as I awaited her answer.

Big mistake.

The Face was on full blast. She'd even managed to work up a tear. "Freddie, there's no other choice. She can't go alone!" She looked me in the eye, Face unwavering, as I tried to hang on to my resolve. For a second, I thought I had it, until she pulled out her secret weapon. The three little words that break me again and again.

"Please? For me?"

_Damn it. _I thought. "Okay, I'll go. But she has to promise not to call me 'Widdle Fwednubs' on camera again." Smiling brightly, Carly patted my head and stood up.

"Don't hold your breath," she said as she left the room.

So there's the story. While Carly's in Yakima being a good granddaughter, I'm here with Sam who stopped bouncing her feet and playing with her hair in favor of flicking my wrist at completely random intervals. After 7 minutes, I turn to snap at her, but the look on her face catches me off guard.

Usually when Sam's mind wanders a blank look comes over her face. Behind this Look, Sam could be thinking about anything, from ideas for the next iCarly to why math should be banned in schools. I've become very familiar with this Look too, and I know to never interrupt Sam's train of thought when this look turns up. But this time, it's different. This time the faraway eyes and completely still face looked….forced. I look back to the magazine I'd been half-heartedly reading and after a few minutes, I risk a second look.

Just as I'm about to dismiss my suspicion, I see it. The corner of her mouth twitches ever so slightly. The wonder of Sam's Look is the fact that she never moves. She'd told us how she'd perfected it years ago and that the trick was to look like you were in a coma, except for the occasional blink. Carly and I had spent a good portion of our World History class admiring Sam's look with awe. Not once throughout the entire semester did she twitch or jerk or anything; her face was like finely carved stone. I had become slack-jawed myself, stunned at this slip-up of Sam's wondering what could possibly cause a twitch when a nurse came out.

"Samantha Puckett? You can come on back." I close my mouth and look away as Sam comes to. I drop the magazine into the chair beside me and follow Sam through the door. She's strangely quiet and doesn't attempt to flip the nurse when she places a hand on Sam's shoulder to physically steer her towards a small room. Once inside, she sits Sam in what looks like a plastic covered recliner and turns to me.

"Would you mind waiting here while I go through the boring stuff? I'll let you know as soon as you can come in."

I nod mutely and lean against the wall outside the door. Inside, I can hear her carrying on a relatively one-sided conversation with Sam's body snatcher. It's the usual stuff: ("How's school? Do you like it? Your mother's still alive right?"). To all these, she gets quick answers: ("A waste of time." "Absolutely not." "As far as I know.") And then the nurse asks something a little out of the ordinary.

"Where's Carly?"

I can hear Sam shift and I can picture the face she's making when she says: "Yakima. Her granddad roped her into some stupid class."

"If you want him in here you have to sign a new form."

"Yeah, I know."

The nurse comes out not thirty seconds later and aims a soft smile in my direction. She goes over to the nurses' station and grabs what must be the form she was talking about. I peek in and watch Sam fill it out quickly and wordlessly as if it were second nature. She signs it and hands the nurse the pen calmly. That alone almost makes me fall over in shock. Not only does Sam have a rule against signing things, but when she's made to do so, the pen is usually kept or viciously lodged somewhere painful.

"The doctor will be in shortly, honey," the nurse says to Sam. She pulls the door closed behind her before turning to me. "Okay," she says sweetly. "This is a form basically saying that Sam agrees to you being in the room with her."

"She's waving the confidentiality thing?" I ask incredulously (while making a mental note to _never _use my incredulous voice around Sam or Carly as they will make fun of how high it is).

The nurse laughs. "Exactly. I need your signature on this too." I take the pen and sign my name, and for a second I look at Sam's signature, which is decidedly more feminine than I expected it to be. I shake my head to get rid of the thought. _What did you expect? _ I mentally chide myself. _She _is _a girl._ As I hand the nurse the form and her pen she touches my shoulder. "A bit of advice," she says. "It helps if you talk to her. When Carly does it seems to help." I nod. "You can go in now," she says, giving my shoulder a little push. I enter and for a second I just look at Sam. She's staring at the ceiling, forcing her Look again. This time, it isn't working so well.

"You can pull that chair over," she says pointing at a plastic chair in the opposite corner of the room. I close the door behind me and follow her instructions. When I grab it, she directs me again. "Left side."

"'Kay." I fall into her monosyllabic attitude, and for a little while we just sit there in peace. Every so often she weakly hits me and I retaliate until finally, the doctor walks in.

"Good afternoon Sam!" he greets cheerfully. "How've you been?"

"Fantastic until you walked through the door," she replies flippantly. She diligently avoids his gaze as he laughs and sits on her right side. He looks at me and winks as he pulls on a pair of gloves. "It's a little game we play," he says. "She knows that I'm not out to hurt her." As he says this he opens a new needle and begins prepping Sam's arm. When I look down at the arm closest to me, it's tense.

"Then how's about you putting that needle away and letting me leave? You know, since you're not out to hurt me and all," she says through clenched teeth. The doctor shakes his head as he looks for her vein. "Steady, Samantha. This will be over before you know it."

"Don't I wish," she mutters. I watch her face as he slides the needle under her skin. She swallows and squeezes her eyes shut. And suddenly it all makes sense.

_She's scared_. That's why Carly always comes with her; that's why Carly was so adamant that I come today. Without thinking I slip my hand into hers and squeeze lightly. _Talk,_ a voice inside my head reminds me.

"So, Gibby wanted me to thank you for him," I begin. She squeezes my hand the slightest bit as the doctor shifts the needle.

"What for?" she asks.

"Some seniors decided to give him a Texas wedgie, but thanks to you he's immune to them now."

She smiles and then it's gone; the doctor is removing the first tube and attaching a second one. My gaze flips from her arm to her face and I see something that stops my heart. There's moisture on Sam's face, right in the corner of her eye. As it slips from its prison between her lids and slides down her cheek her hand twitches in mine. All of a sudden, I have the urge to kiss her forehead and promise her that everything will be alright. Instead I reach over and grab a tissue from the counter on her other side.

"It's kind of hot in here," I say to no one in particular. "You're sweating a little." I dab the tissue over her forehead and then gently dry the path her tear left. She swallows.

"Thanks," she mumbles. Her hand is beginning to shake which is making me nervous. Instinctively I tighten my grip on her hand.

"No problem," I say as I grasp for something else to tell her. "Carly says that we can't keep feeding Guppy things that aren't food."

Her forehead creases in confusion and her grip on my hand slackens slightly. _Good, she's distracted._ "Why? He loves it."

"Yeah but his mom doesn't. She says that those bits are done unless we go to their house afterwards to be there when whatever he eats makes its 'reappearance'. That, and I think it's against some kind of law."

"Yeah, but not a law that anyone ever upholds," she scoffs.

"All done!" The doctor gauzes and tapes Sam's arm and pulls his gloves off with a snap. Sam flexes her arm gingerly testing her limitations and it isn't until the doctor claps me on the shoulder that I realize she's still holding my hand. "You held up well for her son. Make sure you keep an eye on her. Sometimes she gets dizzy."

"Bye, doc," Sam says rudely. She manages to stand before her eyes slide ever so slightly out of focus. I squeeze her hand and hold my breath as I wait for her to squeeze back. She does and our eyes meet. I squeeze her hand again briefly, reassuring. The corners of her lips turn up before she releases my hand. "Let's go." I lead the way out as Sam waves and I smile in response to the parting wave from the nurse that led us back. By the time we get to the parking lot she's Sam again and I couldn't be more relieved. I unlock her door and open it for her and our eyes meet again. I give her a soft smile and she nods in response before sliding in and closing her door as I go around to the driver's side. The doctor's office is two stoplights behinds us when she finally speaks.

"Thanks Freddie." _I appreciate this, but if you ever speak of it again I will cause you incredible amounts of bodily harm._

"Anytime." _This never happened. But I'm always here if you need me._ "Want to grab a smoothie?"

"Shoosh yeah, I do!" _Yeah I know. "_Hey, do you think if I brought my own ham T-Bo would put it in a smoothie for me?"

"That's gross Sam."

"You'll never get anywhere in life being such a pansy Benson." I just shake my head and laugh as the atmosphere in the car shifts and everything goes back to normal. We make up a song about getting smoothies and she writes the lyrics on her arm so she can sing it to Carly later and as I park in front of the Groovy Smoothie I glance over at her. She's smiling as she hums our new song. Her face is bright and happy and I realize that there's not much I wouldn't do for her, even without the use of The Face.


End file.
